A Dozen Steelhead Hairwings

As the sun fell slowly between the walls of The Deschutes River Canyon, The Fly Czar oared his drift boat toward the first river camp where we could slumber for the first night of a two-day day-two, two-night fly fishing adventure. I peered over my right shoulder to pose an intuitive conversational question. Thinking about the first steelhead fly I might attach to my leader in the morning was swirling around in my head. So, I coolly said to Josh, "What's your confidence fly bro?" I heard him chuckle through the sweet cloud of cigar smoke and watched him shake his head. "What type of fly?" he asked me.  "I don't believe in such a thing," he laughed. Consequently, a lump formed in my throat as I turned and peered over the driftboat bow, pondering what fly I might attach to my 10-foot leader–tonight or before daylight the next day. I scratched my head. 

Let me assure you, my method of selecting the first fly pattern on a float trip is not based on any mystical process. However, after more than two decades of immersing myself in the art of fly fishing, I found my long-held belief in the concept of a 'Confidence Fly' possibly shattered. 

Sitting in the boat as we approached the second, third, or fourth body of water to fish the first morning, I asked The Fly Czar to select a fly from my puck. Grudgingly, after honing the fly with the diligent eye of an eagle, Josh held The "Chaveney" about head-high–giving it a thorough lookover; "Give me your line," he commanded. "This could be the one, my "confidence fly," I secretly hoped.  Looking closely at The "Chaveney," I noticed the colors resembled the river's canyon walls and the surrounding landscape.
 
Once out of the boat, Josh pointed me up the river, just above a flat rock, which sat in front of some green vegetation around a burnt snag that jutted out over the river. Once there, I stepped gingerly in the river;  I picked a place to start my swing. Once I reached my optimal casting distance, I started my descent downriver. Sometime later, during my descent, I felt a jarring grab to the size 4 sprout down-eye hook. After a series of heavy head shakes, I saw the heavy boil of water and grasped the cork handle to hold up the heavy bend of my rod tip. "Whooooooooo!" I screamed. I heard my mates echo in the distance, "You got a fish"? I did have a Deschutes Summer Steelhead attached to the drab "Chaveney"--the weakling and afterthought fly from a litter of others.  Once again, I thought, "Could this be a confidence steelhead hair wing pattern–I had heard of so many times over." The graceful dance of the Native Hen made my line taught and my reel spooled forward freely. 

I don't have one specific "confidence fly" anymore. Due to my age and mindset, I simply focus on fly fishing and tying various flies. During a trip, I aim to fish with as many different patterns as possible. I sometimes ponder whether younger anglers should designate a specific steelhead pattern as their "confidence fly." This might only be a topic for discussion in fly fishing podcasts, to be honest. For me, I tie eleven hair wing steelhead flies and pick one additional fly from my tying table. I then place all twelve flies in a Fishpond Puck and patiently wait for the right moment to confidently head to another river bank.
—---- Jeff Hollamon